


The Comfort Of Bunnies

by afteriwake



Series: Love Is Like [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anniversary, Caring Sherlock, Childhood Memories, Cohabitation, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Memories, POV Molly Hooper, Poor Molly, Rabbits, Sad Molly, Sherlock Cheers Molly Up, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Stuffed Toys, Surprises, Tickle Fights, Tickling, Ticklish Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 03:51:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: It’s the anniversary of Molly’s father’s death and this year, thanks to her apartment flooding, she’s lost one of the items to help her cope. But Sherlock has an idea...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MagsyB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagsyB/gifts).



> This was inspired by an **imagineyourotp** prompt on Tumblr that went " _Imagine the smaller/weaker person of your OTP ambushing and pinning down the bigger/stronger person and dominating them by tickling them until they cry._ "

She had to admit, she did enjoy quite a few things about cohabitation, but there were a few things she missed about her flat. She had loved her furniture, she had loved the view she had, she had loved that it was bigger… While there were some definite plus sides to living with Sherlock she at least wished she’d been given the option to bring over more things, though really, she was thankful for what had managed to be salvaged. But there were times she missed certain things that were _hers_ and she would get in a mood.

Sherlock had gotten rather good at dealing with it, though. Usually, there was takeaway ordered, her favourites of whatever type of food she felt like or, if she was so sad that she didn’t care, whatever Sherlock judged would be best suited to cheer her up. Usually, it was the spiciest of spicy foods, paired with a bottle of some good wine he probably went and pilfered from his brother’s wine cellar just to have on hand for her. And then there was time spent on the sofa with a film and usually, after food and a big glass or two were in her she’d come out of her mood and appreciate her time with Sherlock. The movie was usually forgotten and clothes were being shed on their way back to the bedroom.

Tonight, though, she’d gotten reminded of a stuffed animal her father had given her since it was already one of the hard days for her, her father’s birthday, and she hadn’t even gone into her post today. She’d curled up in bed even when Sherlock had been called away by Lestrade to a case, hugging the pillow and occasionally crying softly. Today was one of those days that food and wine probably wouldn’t make a difference, and she had the feeling Sherlock had known that when he had left.

She must have dozed off because when she heard the bedroom door open she had to rub the sleep from her eyes as she turned to face it. There was Sherlock, standing at the foot of the bed with two bags and a giant rabbit tucked under his arm. Tears threatened to fall again but this time they were happy tears. “Oh, Sherlock,” she said, sitting up.

“I know none of them will replace the one your father gave you, but there’s a selection to choose from to see if there is one that can comfort you on the anniversary next year,” he said, coming closer. He set one of the bags down, then the giant rabbit, and then the other bag. “They are a wide variety of colours and fur types and some don’t even have fur and I think there’s even one made out of alpaca fur. Mycroft sent that one along.”

She began going through the bags and pulling out all the different plush rabbits. Some looked like actual rabbits, some looked very whimsical, but they were all soft and huggable and she loved them all, to be honest. “Do I have to choose only one?” she asked, holding up the one she guessed was made with alpaca fur and another that was blue and made out of terrycloth while eyeing the giant bunny.”

“As long as they’re kept relatively out of sight most of the time, you may keep them all, if you want.” He sat down next to her on one of the few clear spots. “They’re meant to help you. If having all of them helps, then they all stay.”

“Thank you,” she said, leaning over and kissing him softly.She put most of them back in the bag except the blue terrycloth one. “If this had been white it would have been perfect.”

“I looked for a white one,” he said. “I know that was the one that was ruined.”

She hugged it to her chest. “I named it Snowball,” she said. “I mean, it didn’t really have any fluffy bits except the tail, but the tail was like a little ball of softness. And I used to carry it everywhere, even until I was ten years old. I stopped when I got teased for taking it to a sleepover at a friend’s house. I called my mum and dad to come pick me up while I was in tears, and I didn’t look at Snowball again until my dad got sick. And then I hugged it every night and it was just my comfort.”

Sherlock nodded. “It’s good to have a comfort. I had one when I was a child. A bear named Blackbeard. It was a black bear. I...don’t know where it is now, actually. My mother might.”

“Maybe we should ask for it,” she said.

“I may just steal one of your rabbits,” she said with a sly grin. “I think a tall man like myself could use a giant rabbit.” He reached over for it but Molly dropped the bunny in her arms and began to tickle Sherlock, going for all the spots she knew full well where his ticklish spots. Soon his laughter filled the air along with his protests for her to stop, and eventually the bags were on the floor and Sherlock was on his back with Molly crouched over him. “Alright!” he said, gasping for breath. “We’ll ask my mother if she knows.”

“Good,” she said, moving to keep both his hands above his head. “ _My_ bunnies, Sherlock. _Mine._ ”

“Yours,” he said.

She grinned and then leaned in and kissed him softly, eventually letting go of his wrists and letting him run his hands up and down her back. Eventually, she pulled back and looked down at him. “Thank you,” she said with a smile.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Do you still want takeaway and wine tonight?”

She nodded. “That sounds lovely. But perhaps more kisses first?”

“I think I can oblige,” he said, moving his hand to the back of her head and bringing her in for another kiss. She was happy today was not such a sorrowful day in the end, and it was all because of this wonderful, loving man. She had no idea how she had gotten so lucky, but she would never take it for granted.


End file.
